


Skilled Fingers

by Oshii



Series: I Have That Effect on Women ;) Lucifer H/C Prompt Fills [18]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Caring Lucifer, Comforting Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Common Cold, Deckerstar - Freeform, F/M, Head Cold, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Massage, POV Chloe Decker, Sick Chloe Decker, Sinus Congestion, Sinus Headache, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25024744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshii/pseuds/Oshii
Summary: Chloe has a throbbing sinus headache and Lucifer has very skilled, temple-massaging fingers. Deckerstar, H/C, head cold, sick!Chloe, caring!Lucifer.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Series: I Have That Effect on Women ;) Lucifer H/C Prompt Fills [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1505822
Comments: 10
Kudos: 109





	Skilled Fingers

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted June 28, 2020.
> 
> Link: https://oshii.tumblr.com/post/622187184293822464/skilled-fingers-head-cold-deckerstar-sickchloe
> 
> I know next to nothing about servers and IP addresses, so Dan’s paragraph likely doesn’t make any sense, I just wanted it to sound cool like on TV procedurals.

The brightness on the computer monitor was turned down to its lowest setting, but still Chloe found herself closing her eyes against the offensive glare as she tried (and failed) to make sense of the cryptic e-mail in her inbox (one of many she’d received from their current Bad Guy of the Week, taunting her, mocking the LAPD, leaving clues to his whereabouts and his next crimes).

“Damn,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair. Keeping her eyes closed, she reached up to massage her temples, attempting to ward off the encroaching headache. She’d felt like crap all day, and the setting sun seemed to draw forth hidden misery after a long and exhausting day of work. Her throat felt scratchy, her sinuses were getting congested, her temples ached dully; to top it all off, she had begun to shiver with chills, despite wearing a blazer against the seventy-five degree weather.

Dan rounded the corner of the partitions dividing the detectives’ desks from the main thoroughfare, manila folder in one hand and protein bar in the other. “Hey, Chlo. You okay?”

Chloe lowered her hand and peeked at him through one evilly slanted eye. “My head hurts, and I’m sick of these creepy e-mails from psycho dude. Tell me you got a fresh lead today.”

He took another bite from his protein bar, shaking his head with sad resignation. “ _Nada_. Dude’s totally off the grid.”

“Then how is he sending us e-mails?”

“External server, maybe? IP address doesn’t match anywhere locally. We sent some units to the server’s location, but it’s just an empty warehouse. Ella bagged some evidence – just a pencil and some candy wrappers on the desk – but she didn’t find any fingerprints. Guy’s good, Chloe.”

With an exasperated sigh, Chloe brought both hands up to her face, trying to scrub away her headache, her stuffy nose, her feverish chills, and her irritated dismay all in one go.

Dan finished the last of his snack and crumpled the wrapper in his fist, walking up to drop it in the trash can by her desk. His blue eyes were very scrutinous. “Hey, you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, Dan, I’m fine.”

“Really? Cause you look worse than the day after our honeymoon in Cabo.”

“Screw you.”

Dan’s chuckle creased the lines at the corners of his eyes, and the familiarity of that shared memory was enough to make Chloe smile, too, but only briefly. “Seriously, Dan. I’m okay. Just gonna sift through this latest puzzle piece and see if I can connect it to any existing clues.”

He straightened up, putting a hand on his hip. “Then you’ll take off and get some rest, yeah?”

She sighed again, and nodded. “Yeah. Go pick up Trixie, she’s still traumatized from the last time you were fifteen minutes late.”

“Shit.” Dan dropped the folder on her desk and brought his hands up to run feverishly through his hair, turning on his heel and hurrying out of there.

Chloe forced herself to open her eyes fully and attempt to focus once more on the computer screen, sighing again and coughing a little towards the end. _Just gotta finish deciphering this_ , she told herself, sniffling and blinking stubbornly. _Then I’ll get some hot tea. With honey. Jasmine, maybe?_

Between squinting through the pounding ache in her eye sockets, and wondering if the break room still had a dusty box of teabags stashed in the back of the cabinet above the coffee maker, Chloe found the surrounding world growing dim and hazy, and she also found it unsurprisingly, wonderfully effortless to succumb to the growing urge to close her eyes again, _just for a minute._

–

“Detective?…Chloe?”

Slowly, reluctantly, Chloe dredged herself from the blissful release of sleep, shifting within her folded arms at the sound of her intruder’s voice. “G’away, Dan,” she grumbled, head still buried.

Suddenly, a cool hand pressed against the back of her neck, long fingers gently massaging her nape, and her spine stiffened; she _knew_ those weren’t Dan’s fingers. With a jolt, her head lifted (wow, hello vertigo, _god_ her head was pounding) and she twisted to see Lucifer hovering over her, his usual shit-eating smirk replaced by an expression that was just honest, and kind. Concern. “When’d you get back?”

“About five minutes ago,” he replied, lowering his hand from her neck only to raise it to rest gently against her forehead. Stunned into paralysis, Chloe sat still, staring at him in disbelief. “You’re burning up, Detective!”

She turned away, ducking out from beneath his hand (and suddenly missing the comforting weight of it in its absence). “I’m fine, Lucifer, really. I just—” her sentence broke off as the tickle in her throat seized into a full-blown cough, wet with phlegm and harsh with effort, and she had to turn away in her desk chair to bury her face into her elbow, face reddening.

“Mm, I see. Detective, either you’ve contracted the pervasive respiratory illness that’s been circulating like wildfire throughout the city, or you’ve been hitting the hash pipe a bit too hard.”

Eyes streaming, still wheezing slightly, Chloe lifted her head with a thick groan. “Ugh. Really?” 

Lucifer smiled sadly, and huffed a little chuckle at her disheveled state. Reaching out to place supportive hands on her shoulders, thumb massaging gentle circles, he nodded. “You sound awful, Chloe, and you should be resting somewhere that’s not your bloody work desk.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but then Lucifer did this damn thing where he started massaging her temples for her, and _God_ did that feel all kinds of fantastic, so she closed her eyes and moaned softly and let him do that for a minute, too exhausted to argue any further. “Mmm…Lucifer, did you run your fingers under ice water just for me?”

He grinned, and that seemed to suit his face better than concern. “Afraid not, darling. I’ve spent the last few thousand years as a casual smoker. There’s bound to be some vessel circulation impairment.”

“God, you’re weird.” She bobbed her head a little, grunting in intensifying pleasure as the pressure of his fingers deepened, circling beneath her eyes to massage her clogged sinuses. “Don’t you dare stop that.”

“Yes, my father’s certainly unlike any other entity I’ve encountered,” he muttered off-handedly, brow furrowing as he concentrated harder on his work. His skilled fingers traced tiny circles around her eye sockets, beading at her temples, traversing beneath the angle of her jaw to stealthily probe her swollen lymph nodes. “Your glands are swollen, Detective.”

Her eyes opened at that, expression indignant as she could muster beneath the adorably red nose and fever-glossed eyes. The flush rose higher on her cheeks. “Leave my glands alone.”

His grin widened. “Never. In fact, I think a full-body massage is in order. Did you know Eastern medicine still applies techniques and remedies that are almost as old as yours truly?”

Chloe reached up to grab his hand and direct it back up to her forehead, where she held it there. “Stop talking and keep rubbing. I’m out of Advil and you’re amazing.”

Lucifer smiled at that, suddenly bashful as a schoolboy, and cheerfully obeyed. “Whatever your heart desires, Detective. I’m happy to continue my ministrations in the comfort of your own home, while making real soup with real chicken stock and chives, if you prefer.”

“Oh, Lucifer,” she sighed, shoulders sagging with relief at just the notion. “That sounds perfect.”

At that, without stopping the gentle rubbing against her temples, he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her burning forehead. “You’re perfect, Chloe. Mucus and all.”

Her resounding snort of laughter was loud enough to be heard throughout the lower precinct. “Take me home, Lucifer,” she sighed, wiping away a tear. “And stay.”


End file.
